Harry Potter and the Lake District Incident
by penmom
Summary: Harry and Hermione are out to find the next to the last Horcrux and find some other things along the way.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and the Lake District Incident

By Penmom

1/ Of course none of this is mine, yada, yada, yada….

2/OK, let me set this up – hopefully things will be made clear as you go but I will go ahead and put things into context for you. I know several people you have lots of trouble jumping into the middle of a story! And so, here we go – I see this piece set late in the seventh year as the final battle draws near and the hunt for the Horcruxs is drawing to a close.

Ron is in St. Mungo after a particularly nasty encounter with a Death Eater or two. Harry and Hermione are holed up in a Muggle Inn preparing to seek out the next to the last Horcrux.

It was one of those summer days in the lake district that would easily pass for winter in many places. It was gray and damp; altogether dreary with periods of cold rain that came and went with no particular regularity. The weather was a perfect compliment to Hermione's mood. She rolled her head around her shoulders in an attempt to ease the growing tension in her neck as she gazed out the window.

When they checked in the muggle inn earlier in the day, the clerk had commented that she should smile more – after all, her 'young man' was treating her to a holiday no matter the weather. 'As if'' she mused. The 'young man' in question was first and foremost not hers and secondly, he wasn't treating her to anything. She bloody-well had to threaten him with bodily harm before he consented to bring her on this little 'holiday'. In truth, the only reason he had relented was the fear of what she might do had she been left to her own devices.

Her thoughts wandered from the book in front of her to the errand before them – finding the next to the last Horcrux. They had devoted months to tracking down its location. In one case, someone had given her life --- just to find the damnable object.

It was a bit of a let down actually. After all this time, the sacrifices – and, and --- well, nothing. They were in this tiny little resort village where the Riddles had kept a summer place once – years ago now. Harry was relatively certain the Horcrux was in a cave on the property. It better be, Ron was in St. Mungo's because of the damned diary the contained the clue and Ginny ... poor Ginny, she was simply gone.

By Merlin, she hoped Remus and Tonks were fairing better on their search.

A gust of wind roused her from her thoughts once more and she looked at the clock. Harry would be back soon. He'd gone to pick up some muggle flashlights. They had learned the hard way that _He_ had somehow protected many of his hiding places with dampening spells that made magic go haywire. You couldn't depend on the most basic of spells.

She sighed and thought about the subject she had yet to approach with Harry. She had researched this cave until she thought she would scream. She had screamed on several occasions. She had to be the foremost expert on the little hole in the ground. She had convinced herself that knowledge could keep them safe, it had to --- that was all they had --- that and each other. And it was to this end, that she needed to talk to Harry.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The clerk at Algood's Sundries cursed the fact that she hadn't washed her hair that morning when the cutie walked in – all tall (but not too tall) and dark (but not too dark) and handsome (well, in that department he was just right.). He needed a good haircut but he was still a sight.

"Ah, sir? Can I be helping you with something today? An umbrella, maybe?"

He flashed her a quick smile as he brushed back his shaggy, wet bangs from his forehead. "No but thanks" Mr. Cutie replied.

"That's a wicked cool tatt' you've got" she exclaimed, looking at the sharply defined, black lightning bolt on his forehead.

"Me, I've got some Chinese writin'on me bum,- real elegant it is. Ya' wanta see?"

The Cutie's smile immediately fades before her proposition out of her mouth.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and the Lake District Incident

By Penmom

1/ Of course none of this is mine, yada, yada, yada….

2/OK, let me set this up – hopefully things will be made clear as you go but I will go ahead and put things into context for you. I know several people you have lots of trouble jumping into the middle of a story! And so, here we go – I see this piece set late in the seventh year as the final battle draws near and the hunt for the Horcruxs is drawing to a close.

Ron is in St. Mungo after a particularly nasty encounter with a Death Eater or two. Harry and Hermione are holed up in a Muggle Inn preparing to seek out the next to the last Horcrux.

Chapter 2

Hermione double checked the dusty little book once more. She was sure or rather she was as sure as she was going to be. The cavern where the Horcurx lay was infested with a rather nasty and peculiar strain of pixies known for a particularly venomous bite and highly selective palate. The creatures in question resembled bats more so than anything else and loved to dwell in damp, dark, magical places. Certainly, this forsaken cave fit the bill to a tee.

The 1872 annotated appendix to the day's equivalent to the Care of Magical Creatures, _Hornsby's Field Guide, _described the following –

Lumenocarnopixius – commonly know as bat fairies – these small, vicious creatures inhabit caves and caverns throughout the British Isles. They commonly spurn human contact but theyseek wizard flesh with a marked craving. A long held myth purported that bat fairies preyed on wizarding infants and children; however, painstaking research by Sir Percy Seymour Willowbottom once and for all, provided the truth of the matter. Lumenocarnopixius are actually most attracted to the blood of _virgin_ wizards and witches; hence, the confusion with infants and children who are most certainly in that category as well. It has been observed that the scent ofadolescent wizards and witches who have yet to engage in adult relations will often drive this sub-category of pixies into a frenzy that can ultimately result not only in injury but death. (please see the notation regarding the death of one Mr. Cecil Armistead, age 16, circa 1850).

Hermione straightened her shoulders as she heard Harry unlocking the door to their room. She had made up her mind. It simply wasn't worth the risk. She was going to have to explain her findings to Harry no matter how embarrassing. Hopefully, once he understood what they were up against he would agree to her plan.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he opened the door to the room he has sharing with Hermione.Who would have thought that buying a simple flashlight was going to be such a headache – the weather, the loopy clerk wanting to show him her tattoo – really, what next? He was looking forward to a hot shower, some dry clothes and a nap before the night's trek.

However, as soon as the door opened to reveal the expression on Hermione's face, he knew his simple plan was not to be. She was standing by a chair and a small table where a small book lay. He had learned one thing a long time ago – books and that look on Hermione's face – the one where she worried her bottom lip with her teeth – was never good. It might as well have been a huge neon sign flashing BEWARE.

Still, he was used to it. More than once that particular neon sign had saved his life. He tried to remind himself of just that fact as Hermione launched into her latest diatribe.

TBC


End file.
